The Debate Link

Well, it's happening. Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao are set to rematch their 2015 fight, which Mayweather won by unanimous decision. The match is scheduled for September 19th in Las Vegas, and will be carried by Netflix.

Like any red-blooded boxing fan, I hate this. Mayweather (50-0, 27 KOs) and Pacquiao (62-8-3, 39 KOs) are both pushing fifty years old. To say neither is in their prime is an understatement. The fight defines soulless cash grab (and I would know). Rumors have abounded that Mayweather, in particular, has gotten into money trouble, and with the first fight grossing over $400 million dollars, this smacks of a way to get one or both gentlemen's bank account back into the black.

In terms of the fight itself -- well. After all the hype and hullabaloo surrounding the first fight, Mayweather ended up winning quite handily. And while some of that has been chalked up to Pacquiao being injured ahead of the match, I genuinely believe that in their primes and at their peak, Floyd Mayweather was a better fighter than Manny Pacquiao. I was not surprised at the outcome then, and had they run it back a year later with a fully recovered Pacquiao, I would have expected much the same result.

But as I said -- we are now nowhere near anyone's prime. And to the extent either fighter has even gestured at remaining active in the sport, it's Pacquiao. After dropping a clear decision to Yordenis Ugas in 2021, Pacquiao came back to fight Mario Barrios to a draw last year. Sure, Barrios may be someone who a prime Pacquiao would've torn apart, but he's a real fighter, not a total pushover, and Pacquaio at least could still keep up with him. Mayweather's last sanctioned fight (against Conor McGregor) was in 2017, his last fight against an actual boxer was against a basically shot Andre Berto in 2015, and his last fight against an opponent who had any chance of challenging him was ... Manny Pacquiao. Mayweather's been feasting on exhibition-circuit joke fights for a decade, but it's been a long time since he's had to do anything halfway serious in the ring.

The reality is that, while we've got some idea what this version of Manny Pacquiao has for us, we have no idea how much Floyd Mayweather Jr. has left in the tank. During his career Mayweather was known if nothing else for always being in fantastic shape. He may have liked to flash cash and showboat in the runup to fights, but he never let the distractions distract him. Is that still true at 49? Is he fully present? Is he taking this fight because he genuinely wants to be back in the ring and feels he's capable of putting on a show, or because his debts finally piled higher than his pride? (And that doesn't get into the more basic question of whether, even if Mayweather genuinely still has the hunger, is his body still there?)

I'm not interested in this fight. As a boxing fan, it offends me that the most attention our sport gets are these senior circuit tours and whenever Jake Paul steps into the ring. Terrence Crawford deserves all the attention and money of this fight twice over.

But if there is one thing I can say in its favor, it's that I'm genuinely not confident who will win. I guess that's something.

At the start of Terence Crawford's history-making bout against Canelo Alvarez, Max Kellerman remarked that he'd never seen a fight with as dramatic stakes for one man's legacy as this match did for Crawford. If Crawford won, he'd cement himself as his generation's greatest fighter. If he lost, he'd be written off as a guy who couldn't quite reach greatness in his biggest fight.

The downside I thought was a bit harsh. But the upside was right, as was the overall tenor: A Crawford victory would rocket him to the top of the all-time greats list; a loss and he'd be viewed as a very good fighter but not one making any major historical mark.

Whatever dispute I and Kellerman might have is moot, of course. Crawford soundly outboxed Canelo, winning a unanimous decision and instantly making his status as one of the greatest to ever lace up gloves inarguable.

It is amazing, when one thinks about it, how Crawford got to this point while essentially -- as far as the wider world is concerned -- being an unknown. Terence Crawford is not a household name. I don't think I've ever seen him in a beer commercial or doing a cameo Hollywood appearance. But he has quietly, decisively, been a dominant force in the sport for over a decade.

This fight against Alvarez reportedly marked the first time Crawford had been a betting underdog since his 2013 match against Breidis Prescott. Though not the most scintillating performance, that fight was a coming out party for Bud. He came in on short notice as, more-or-less. a nobody -- a decent amateur pedigree but not from a boxing hotbed (Omaha, Nebraska) and without much hype behind him. Boxing fans, frankly, are familiar with this archetype -- glossy record but Podunk background equals soft-touch for a bigger name still riding off his Amir Khan upset. Instead, Crawford cruised to an easy victory, soundly outboxing his Columbian opponent -- but not in a way that instantly suggested "a star is born."

Yet from then on out, Crawford was nothing but dominant. He dropped down to lightweight to win a title against Ricky Burns, and from that point forward never left the upper echelons of the sport. If Prescott was the last time that Crawford was a betting underdog, we could also ask when was the last time Crawford seemed to be truly challenged in a fight. For me, that was the very early rounds against Yuriorkis Gamboa -- but Crawford turned that fight around with a vengeance, dropping Gamboa four times from the fifth round forward en route to a ninth round stoppage. And after that, can one remember a point where Crawford genuinely, seriously seemed to be in trouble in the ring? It is no disrespect to Canelo to say it didn't happen last night -- not that Crawford dominated Alvarez, but he always seemed in control, always seemed just a little bit better.

How can one be so dominant, for so long, and have nobody outside the sport's insiders really know you? Part of it was temperament -- as noted, he never seemed interested in making himself into a celebrity. But even in the ring, Crawford's was a deceiving appearances sort of domination. He was never viewed as a knockout artist, even though he had KOed plenty of fighters. He wasn't seen as a search-and-destroy punisher, but he was a ferocious finisher. 

What he had was a preternatural sense of control, coupled with one of the meanest streaks I've ever seen in the ring. Crawford liked to beat people up. And he was very good at it.

Look at the cast of characters whose careers Crawford essentially ended, at least at the upper echelon of the sport. On his way to unifying the junior welterweight division, Crawford demolished both Viktor Postol and Julius Indongo; both were undefeated, both became essential non-entities in boxing going forward. Felix Diaz had one more win after Crawford beat him in 2017; Jeff Horn only won twice. Jose Benavidez was never the same after Crawford was through with him. Amir Khan and Kell Brook were basically sent into a swan song against each other after Crawford violently dispatched both. He sent Shawn Porter into retirement; he may have done the same to Errol Spence. These are very, very good fighters. Crawford didn't just beat them. He wrecked them.

And yet even then, many thought this fight against Canelo was a gimmick. Crawford had unified at 147, and then he did what a lot of folks did in pursuing a vanity title at 154 pounds. This is no disrespect to Crawford; it's a career move we've seen from many of the greats around his size. Floyd Mayweather did it; Oscar de la Hoya did it, Manny Pacquiao did it. And I don't think we're disrespecting Israil Madrimov to point out this his name isn't quite in the same class as Errol Spence or Shawn Porter or Kell Brook. But jumping up another two weight classes on top of that? To face the biggest star in the sport and a man who was still one of the pound-for-pound elites? It seemed absurd. It seemed like a cash grab.

It was neither. It was greatness.

At the end of the fight, Crawford dedicated his win to the nobodies. For so long, despite all of his accomplishments, Terence Crawford was one of those nobodies. Now, through sheer talent and force of will, he has made himself into somebody the sport will never forget.

I was watching boxing today -- the Anthony Joshua/Jermaine Franklin card -- and on the boxing blog I follow the fans between fights were just shooting the breeze about just how good Caitlin Clark is. And not that boxing fans can't follow women's basketball, but it was still striking to see that sort of crossover appeal in this particular forum. She really has the potential to be a true breakthrough sensation.

The below feels like one of those math puzzles, though I don't actually know enough about math puzzles to know if it really is one. It is something I've genuinely noticed and wondered about when watching boxing.

In boxing, there are functionally six types of decisions: A unanimous decision, a split decision, a majority decision, as well as a unanimous draw, a split draw, and a majority draw.

• In a unanimous decision, all three judges agree in scoring the bout in favor of one fighter.
• In a split decision, two judges score the bout in favor of one fighter, while the third scores it favor of the other.
• In a majority decision, two judges score the bout in favor of one fighter, while the third scores it draw.
• In a unanimous draw, all three judges score the bout a draw.
• In a split draw, one judge votes for fighter A, one for fighter B, and the third scores it a draw.
• In a majority draw, one judge votes for one fighter, but the other two judges score it a draw.

When a ring announcer gets set to tell the audience the judges' decision, there are several pieces of information he needs to communicate. By the end of his announcement, the audience should know how each judge scored the fight, and for whom, and of course they need to know the actual result of the fight (who won, or that it was a draw). In general, however, he can announce the three judges' decision in any order he likes. Being a good performer, the announcer would like there to be as much suspense as possible. In practice that means he wants to the last piece of information he reveals to be the result.

The dilemma is as follows: how, if it all, can an announcer accomplish that goal in the case of a majority draw?

Start with a unanimous decision. A bad announcer might deliver the decision this way:

"Judge A had the bout 77-75 for Doe, Judge B had the bout 78-75 for Doe, and Judge C had the bout 78-74 for the winner, John Doe!"

Notice how once the crowd knows both A and B voted for Doe, they know the result even before it is announced. John Doe has at least a majority of the judges, so he won. In order to achieve the result of not tipping off the audience until the very end, a better announcement might go as follows:

"Judge A had the bout 77-75, Judge B had the bout 78-75, and Judge C had the bout 78-74, all for the winner, by unanimous decision, John Doe!"

Notice how by the end everyone knows how each judge voted, and for whom, but the last piece of information they got was the result. Until "John Doe" was said, the crowd didn't know the result of the match.

One can do this for most types of decision. A split decision can be announced like this:

Judge A had the bout 77-75 for Doe. Judge B had the bout 77-75 for Smith. And Judge C had the fight 77-75 for the winner, by split decision, John Doe!"

This works so long as the announcer is permitted to choose what order he delivers the judges' verdicts (i.e., he can make sure the one card for Smith is announced either first or second).

Here's a split draw:

Judge A had the bout 77-75 for Doe. Judge B had the bout 77-75 for Smith. And Judge C had the fight 76-76 -- this fight is a draw!

Here's a unanimous draw: 

All three judges scored the fight the same, 76-76 -- this bout is a draw!

And here's a majority decision:

Judge A scored the bout 76-76. Overruled by Judge B, who scored the bout 77-75, and Judge C, who scored the bout 78-74, for the winner, by majority decision, John Doe!

The majority decision is the toughest one so far -- the alert listener knows once the announcer says the word "overruled" that a majority decision is coming*, but still doesn't know who won.

But what of a majority draw? Consider the following:

Judge A scores the fight 77-75 for Doe. Overruled by judges B and C, who each score the bout even -- this fight is a majority draw!

Here one knows the result of the fight -- that it's a majority draw -- the moment the announcer says "overruled". Why? Well, there are only two ways that A's score for Doe could be overruled -- either B and C voted for Doe's opponent, or they voted for a draw. If it was the former, though, this would be a terrible way to announce it, as the audience would know who won as soon as just one of Judge B or C's card was announced for the other fighter. There'd be no suspense. Given that, we all know that the card was overruled by two judges voting for a draw even before we actually hear it.

What happens if you announce the cards in a different order?

Judge B and C score the fight 76-76, a draw, overruling Judge A, who scored the fight 77-75 Doe.

Nope -- that gives away the result before we ever hear Judge A's card. Similar problems emerge if you try to do something like going B (draw), A (Doe), C (draw) -- once you've revealed that B voted draw and A voted for Doe, then you know that if anyone won it has to be Doe (by majority decision), which means that if Doe did win you'd know as soon as the announcer gave a non-draw score even before they told you who the judge voted for -- and knowing that the announcer wouldn't do that, you know that C's score is going to be a draw and that the fight will be a majority draw. 

*Deep breath*

So ... is there a resolution to this? Is there a way for a ring announcer to announce a majority draw without sapping it of all the drama? I don't know. And I don't know if this "dilemma" reveals anything interesting. But I have noticed it, and haven't been able to solve it (if it can be solved).

* How does he know? Because Judge A's decision to score the fight a draw could only be "overruled" if the two other judges did not have it a draw and did vote for the same person to win. If one or both scored it a draw, then the fight would be either a majority or unanimous draw. And if they didn't score the fight even but voted for different fighters to win, then the result would be a split draw.

It's been awhile since we had a boxing post on this site, but I've got $40 on Tyson Fury to defeat Deontay Wilder in the rematch, so why not run through my thinking?

Full disclosure: My track record of boxing betting involving any fight not including Floyd Mayweather is not great. So take what I say with a grain of salt -- or as a guide in the opposite direction.

When I visited Las Vegas a few weeks ago, the Wilder/Fury fight was a pure toss-up -- -110 odds for either fighter. That makes some sense, given that their first fight went to a draw. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked Fury in the rematch -- and that's accounting for the fact that as a fan I greatly prefer Wilder. Two things loomed largest in pointing towards "The Gypsy King":

First, most observers thought that if anybody won the first fight, it was Fury. Instead the outcome was a draw. In my experience, when most people thought boxer A defeated boxer B in the first fight, but the judges disagree, boxer A beats boxer B more decisively in the rematch. Think Pacquiao/Bradley. There are exceptions, but they tend to fall into two categories. Either A's win would have been a huge upset (in which case, often the explanation is that B overlooked A, and doesn't make the same mistake twice); or B has a lot more drawing power/promoter backing than A. Neither one applies here: Wilder and Fury are roughly equally popular, and were viewed as evenly-matched from the start. It's hard to imagine Wilder was "overlooking" Fury in their first fight.

But that's mostly me doing amateur psychology on the mindset of the judges. Substantively, I see a much bigger issue for Wilder -- at the very top level, he's repeatedly needed his power to bail him out. That was true in both Ortiz fights, each of which he was losing before he came-from-behind with a knockout. And it was true in the first Fury fight, where he needed two knockdowns (including one in the final round) to scrape out a draw that even then many observers thought he was lucky to get. If Wilder didn't land his one big shot, he loses those fights.

Now of course, if ever there was an eraser, it's Deontay Wilder's power. I don't overlook that. And I get the whole argument that Tyson Fury has to be good for 12 rounds, while Deontay Wilder only has to be good for one second. Even still, it's never a good thing to go into a fight needing a knockout. There's a reason why Randall Bailey didn't win every fight he was ever in. If that's your only dimension, eventually you'll encounter a guy who can neutralize it long enough to take a decision.

And let's not forget -- Tyson Fury might be the one guy on the planet capable of surviving Wilder's power. The punch that dropped Fury in the 12th round of their first fight was the sort of shot I didn't think it possible to get up from. But Fury did, and survived the round. It's not enough for Wilder to land the big shot, it has to actually end the fight. Against 99% of all opposition, that's a foreordained conclusion. Against Fury, it isn't.

Tyson Fury certainly didn't look perfect against Otto Wallin in his last fight. But unlike Wilder, he didn't have to bail himself out of a hole with one punch. Much the opposite, he gritted out a decision under deep adversity (and I'd point out that we really have no idea just how good Wallin is). He showed heart and discipline, two things he'll need in spades against Wilder. But if he sticks to a gameplan and boxes smart, I think he can ride out Wilder's one punch, and get the victory many observers thought he deserved the first time around.

Haven't done one of these in awhile! But it was a big night of fights, even though I missed the PBC show on FS1. Oh, I recorded it -- it's just that virtually all of it ended up airing on FS2 because some college baseball game ran long, and then the main event came out after the bloc was already scheduled to have concluded. So quickly, before moving on to the far more interesting DAZN card....

Willie Monroe Jr. (24-3, 6 KOs) UD10 Hugo Centeno Jr. (27-3, 14 KOs)

We knew a lot more about Monroe coming in than we did Centeno. Monroe is a slickster who can generally outbox anyone on the B-level of the division, but really can't hang with the top dogs. Centeno was someone whose only losses came to some pretty elite fighters -- Maciej Sulecki and Jermall Charlo -- and so the question was whether he was an A-level fighter who happened to lose when matched at the very top, or was a B-level fighter who'd already seen his peak exposed. Looks like it's Door #2. This is a good win for Monroe, but it doesn't really change his position -- someone with basically zero chance to beat a Canelo or a Golovkin (who already smoked him), but might get the call to step-in as a semi-credible tune-up during a lull period.

Ivan Redkach (23-4-1, 18 KOs) KO6 Devon Alexander (27-6-1, 14 KOs)

Mild upset here. Alexander actually looked to be on the rebound after a long layoff battling painkiller addiction, which is an odd thing to say about a guy who was 0-1-1 in his last two fights, but most people thought he deserved the W against both Victor Ortiz and Andre Berto. Redkach was a one-time prospect who already seemed to have hit a ceiling and was seem more as a fun but limited action guy. But he caught Alexander good in round six, putting him down three times and earning the knockout. This probably ends Alexander's career at anything close to the top level, but it honestly doesn't make me feel ready to reevaluate Redkach just yet.

Okay, with that out of the way, onto ... DAZN!

Joshua Buatsi (11-0, 9 KOs) TKO4 Marco Antonio Periban (25-5-1, 16 KOs)

A good step up for Buatsi against a former title challenger, albeit one who hadn't fought in two years. Periban tried, but Buatsi was way too big and probably always too skilled to really ever be threatened. Periban is probably a permanent gatekeeper now, assuming he even decides to step back into the ring, which is far from clear. Buatsi is by no means a finished product, but he's got a lot of upside.

Chris Algeri (24-3, 9 KOs) RTD8  Tommy Coyle (25-5, 12 KOs)

Well, well. Someone finally let Chris Algeri out of the cage. After a long retirement lay-off following a beatdown from Errol Spence, Algeri looks rested, refreshed, and maybe a little more powerful than he did during his spotlight years following his upset win over Ruslan Provodnikov in 2014. He survived a bit of a scare in round two, and the body shot he put Coyle down with in round four was positively wicked. A fun action fight while it lasted, but Algeri definitely put his stamp on it. Can he compete with the top welterweights? No, it'd be the same slaughter we've already seen. Would, say, a fight against fellow Long Islander Cletus Seldin (assuming he gets past Zab Judah -- yep, that Zab Judah) be a fun time for all? I think so.

Coyle was already sounding like he had one foot out the door on his career, and this loss probably will hasten that process. He might do a farewell fight back home in the UK, but I suspect that'll do it.

Josh Kelly (9-0-1, 6 KOs) D10 Ray Robinson (24-3-2, 12 KOs)

Robinson spoils an up-and-comer for the second straight fight, and comes out of it with a draw for the second straight fight. Kelly seems like one of those dime-a-dozen Prince Naseem Hamed wannabes that always seem to be coming up the ranks. It's not that he has no skill (he does) or no athleticism (he does). But he's just not as good as he thinks he is, and it showed against Robinson. I wasn't judging too closely, but I might have thought Kelly nonetheless deserved the edge even as he clearly faded late. But I have no quarrels with a draw (and I know many other observers thought it was Kelly who got lucky here).

Callum Smith (26-0, 19 KOs) TKO3 Hassan N'Dam N'Jikam (37-4, 21 KOs)

Callum Smith is widely considered the best of the "fighting Smith brothers" (that'd be Callum, Liam, Paul, and Stephen). He certainly impressed here, although I'd say he pretty much did as expected. N'Dam -- who lacks a nickname as a fighter, which to this day baffles me since he should obviously be dubbed Hassan "Bam Bam" N'Dam N'Jikam -- is the real-boy equivalent of one of those punch-a-clown dummies. He goes down easy, but he always gets back up. He went down six times against Peter Quillin, was quite competitive during the rounds he stayed on his feet (I remember quipping at the time that "he's doing pretty well except for the times he's getting his ass kicked").

Anyway, Smith -- who had size and skill advantages over N'Dam -- put him down in each of the first three rounds. The third knockdown was particularly vicious, and while N'Dam naturally got to his feet, the referee waved it off. Unlike Willie Monroe, I think Callum Smith would make a genuinely interesting match-up against Canelo Alvarez if the latter felt like fully moving up.

Katie Taylor (14-0, 6 KOs) MD10 Delfine Persoon (43-2, 18 KOs)

There is an emergent narrative about women's boxing today, one I largely subscribe to. Basically, it holds that the women's amateur game right now is leaps and bounds ahead of where it was even a decade ago. Hence, the incoming crop of "prospects" coming out of the amateurs -- folks like Katie Taylor and Claressa Shields -- are just on a different level than even the "experienced" champions in the professional game. They're better schooled, they're stronger technically, and they've fought more consistent high-level opposition. We saw the difference when, in a highly-anticipated unification matchup, Claressa Shields ended up just running over long-time champion Christina Hammer. Yes, Shields is that good. But also her generation of fighter is just better than the one that came before, and that, as much as anything else, was what was on display in Hammer vs. Shields.

That narrative explains why Katie Taylor came in as a huge favorite against Delfine Persoon, despite the latter's glittering record and near-decade long title reign. Yes, Persoon was undefeated for the past nine years. But as Teddy Atlas would put it -- against who? Against who? There was probably nobody on Persoon's resume with skills anywhere close to the top amateurs Taylor had fought regularly.

Yet Persoon did her darndest to upset the story. And most observers -- myself included -- thought she ultimately deserved the nod, or at least a draw. Katie Taylor was very lucky to come away with a victory. And Delfine Persoon showed that she was every bit on the level of the very top, elite women fighting today.

To be sure, it was clear that Taylor was the more skilled and well-schooled fighter in the ring. But Persoon came in with an aggressive, gritty gameplan that sought to disrupt Taylor's rhythm and turn the fight into a brawl -- which she was successful at over large periods. Taylor was most effective when she could keep distance and run Persoon into check hooks on her way inside. But Persoon, though a bit dirty and more than a bit awkward, wasn't some mindless aggressor either -- she made adjustments, and by the end of the fight really had Taylor hanging for dear life. There's a fair case that, if this was a 12 round fight over 3 minute rounds, Persoon could have gotten a stoppage (side bar: women's boxing should have 3 minute rounds and the same number of rounds as the men's game. Full stop. The 2 minute round set-up is just the most prominent example of patronizing sexism that afflicts the women's game).

But let's not mislead: this wasn't the story of the talented but inexperienced starlet looking lost against the cagey, grizzled veteran and then getting gifted a decision. Taylor had a gameplan too, and had more than her share of moments. What we had was simply a great fight, perhaps the best fight we've seen to date in high-level women's boxing.

Persoon was absolutely crushed when the scores were announced, and left the ring almost immediately in tears. It was hard not to feel for her -- she had been toiling in obscurity for years, ignored while fighters like Katie Taylor got all the accolades and fortune. This was her big chance, and from her vantage (and many others) this should have been her night. She put on a hell of a performance, only to have it torn away from her by the judges. I'm not going to say it was a flat robbery, but the consensus view definitely saw more observers giving Persoon the win. I've seen plenty of draw cards as well, but very few folks (other than the two judges) score it for Taylor.

The good news is there's a strong case for a rematch. It was a great fight, a close fight, and one where there's still definitely unfinished business. There also aren't so many big money opportunities in women's boxing that a fight like this -- which now is pretty easy to market -- should be muscled out, though Taylor did mention a potential fight with Amanda Serrano instead. No disrespect to Serrano -- who is a great fighter in her own right -- but I hope she waits her turn. Persoon absolutely deserves a rematch, and it should come next.

Andy Ruiz Jr. (33-1, 22 KOs) TKO7 Anthony Joshua (22-1, 21 KOs)

A monster upset, as Ruiz becomes the first Mexican or Mexican-American fighter to win a heavyweight championship. Was it as big as Douglas over Tyson, as some commentators were breathlessly exclaiming after the fight? No. Joshua was very good but not viewed as an invincible destroyer as Tyson was at his peak, and Ruiz was more of a known quantity than Douglas was. But putting that unreachable height aside, this was a giant upset -- assuredly 2019's upset of the year.

Ruiz was a substitute for Jarrell Miller, who failed a drug test and thus lost his big break, but he still got a decent amount of time to train. Of course, with Ruiz it's always "who can tell?", as the guy just comes into every fight fat. I don't mean that as an insult or anything, and he'd be the first to agree -- Andy Ruiz is chubby around the middle. For pretty much any other fighter -- no matter how much they talk about being "comfortable at the weight" or whatever -- that's a big problem. Chris Arreola, the last Mexican-American to make a run at heavyweight glory, always made light of his weight, but it really did hold him back.

But for some reason Andy Ruiz is different. He's got genuinely fast hands for a heavyweight -- like, not just in the "you'd think as a fat guy he'd be a plodder, but he's actually deceptively quick", but objectively fast hands measured against any heavyweight you can think of. Ruiz throws really good combinations, quickly and accurately, and that was known coming into the fight.

Of course, we knew Joshua pretty well too -- a powerful guy who'd shown both skill and resilience in his breakout fight against Wladimir Klitschko, coming off the deck to knockout the aging legend in 11 rounds. I did not think the fight against Ruiz was quite the afterthought that most were making it out to be -- yet another detour from the Joshua-Fury-Wilder merry-go-round -- but I certainly thought Joshua would win it. I was prepared to be proud of myself when Ruiz made a better accounting of himself than expected.

Instead, we got a really impressive performance that included a strong round-of-the-year contender in round three. That's when Joshua dropped Ruiz and most people thought he was about to move in for the kill. Instead, Ruiz caught Joshua swinging wide and almost immediately returned the knockdown favor. A second knockdown towards the end of the round had Ruiz firmly in control and Joshua looking wobbly, fortunate to hear the bell ring.

Ruiz left Joshua off the hook, it seemed, in round four, and the question was whether he had missed his chance. But instead, Ruiz knocked down Joshua twice more in the seventh -- again, precipitated by Joshua landing a decent shot and then being countered in-between when he got a little too free going for the finish. The last knockdown saw Joshua's mouthpiece go flying, and Joshua retreated to his corner clearly expecting time to be called to replace it. The referee was not obliging, insisting that Joshua come out to fight with no mouthpiece, and I do think that resulted in some confusion as to why Joshua didn't "come forward" to make crystal clear he wanted to continue. But nonetheless, that's on Joshua, who had his arms draped over the ropes and wasn't making any motions towards stepping back into the fight. He was clearly surprised by the stoppage, but not too upset by it.

And on that score: I'm not wild about how Joshua reacted to the end of the fight. Yes, he was very classy in defeat, making no excuses and giving all due credit to Ruiz. Which is great, I like class. But it was a bit weird to see just how little Joshua seemed to be bothered by losing. It's not like I wanted to see a meltdown or anything, but there was a sense as the fight's tide turned in Ruiz's favor that Joshua kind of lost interest once it started to get hard in there. That doesn't really jibe with the heart he showed in the Klitschko fight, but it's something to keep an eye on going forward. Boxing is a tough business under the best of circumstances; it tends to chew up guys who -- however much natural talent they might possess -- have lost that inner drive to press back against adversity in the ring.

Anyway, Joshua losing actually simplifies things in the heavyweight division going forward. His next fight will be a rematch against Ruiz, and meanwhile Deontay Wilder and Tyson Fury are scheduled to fight each other assuming both get by their next opponent -- Luis Ortiz and Tom Schwarz, respectively. But a note of warning should be sounded there as well. I don't know anything about Schwarz, and frankly I expect Fury to truck him. But the Ortiz fight -- which got a lot of moans and groans because it wasn't Wilder facing Joshua or Fury -- is very much a real fight.

People forget that the first fight between Wilder and Ortiz was really good and, more importantly, really competitive. It wasn't controversial, because Wilder ended up winning in a knockout, but Ortiz very easily could have taken it. He had Wilder badly hurt and nearly ready to go. For me, I saw a fight where, if you ran it back again, I could very easily see a different man end up on top. So I wouldn't be too blase about Wilder necessarily coming out on top in the rematch. He'll be the favorite, and deservedly so, but Ortiz is a very live dog in there. Wilder/Ortiz is not just some medicine we have to take until we get to the good stuff, and the outcome of tonight's fight should give us all pause before writing the conclusion as foreordained.

Adrien Broner, once heralded as boxing next big thing but never living up to the moniker, has been arrested after a woman accused him of groping her at an Atlanta mall.

Responding to the charge, the ever-classy Broner wrote on social media: "Just cause I voted for trump don't mean I'm going around grabbing pussies."

Yeah, I'm voting that he did it. Not just because of Broner's prior brushes with the law (though thus far he's escaped having any of his cases go to trial), and not just because he's a notorious asshole (though even in boxing he stands out), and not just because he voted for Trump (of course he did; also, moths to the flame much?). But the sort of person who'd respond to a sexual misconduct allegation with a flip "Just cause I voted for trump don't mean I'm going around grabbing pussies" is exactly the sort of person whom I totally believe would go around "grabbing pussies."

Thankfully, unlike late-stage Floyd Mayweather, who boxing fans like myself had to pay attention to even as he was racking up domestic violence cases of his own because he was the best fighter in the world, Adrien Broner is basically irrelevant at the top echelons of boxing now. So if this ends up torpedoing his next fight (a scheduled scrap with Omar Figueroa Jr.), we won't be missing much.

I, of course, am watching the big fight tonight -- Miguel Cotto vs. Yoshihiro Kamegai. Why, what are you watching?

In all seriousness, I do think Mayweather/McGregor is a sideshow. That didn't stop me from putting money on Mayweather (half on Mayweather to win straight, and half on Mayweather plus the "over" on rounds), but as a boxing match it's only competitive if Mayweather has gotten old since his last fight. And that's not that interesting to me. While Cotto/Kamegai isn't exactly a toss-up fight, it should be exciting and at least it's a match-up of boxers. Plus it won't cost me $100.

But since we have another moment where boxing is in the public eye, I wanted to flag this article in the Washington Post about the future of the sport. For a long time, the conventional wisdom has been that boxing is "dying", now restricted to an older fan base who are not interesting as advertising demographics. The real energy, the line goes, is behind MMA. And certainly, the latter sport has seen explosive growth over the past decade. But the WaPo article reveals that the CW about boxing has been largely misconceived. 18-29 year olds are the most likely to call themselves boxing fans (39%), and at similar rates to MMA (37%). Overall, boxing and MMA have roughly the same proportion of fans (25% for Americans call themselves MMA fans, 28% boxing fans).

So what's driving the narrative on boxing? While the article doesn't harp on this, the big difference is along the dimension of race. Non-whites are far more likely to consider themselves boxing fans than are whites. While just 17% of white people identify as boxing fans, for blacks that jumps to 52% and for Latinos its 61%. Amongst women, just 8% of white women are boxing fans, compared to 40% of nonwhite women (a significantly higher rate than the 25% of white men who characterize themselves as boxing fans).

To be sure, boxing was in some ways shooting itself in the foot by keeping so many of its big fights on premium cable networks or PPV, where younger fans often didn't have access to them. That consideration was a major factor in Top Rank's just-announced four year deal with ESPN, part of a larger shift in recent years of boxing over to basic cable and even network television.

But it's hard not to think that a large part of why people thought "boxing is dead" was because white people were less invested in the sport. Amongst black and Latino communities, boxing is still incredibly popular; it was just that their interest didn't "count" in assessing the vitality of the sport.

Errol Spence Jr. is a former U.S. Olympian, a current titleholder in the welterweight division, and a rising star in the world of boxing. When announcers pronounce his name, they give it two syllables -- ERR-roll -- like the actor Errol Flynn.

But Spence is from deep in the heart of Texas. And he has such a drawl that, when he says his name, it's one syllable: "Earl."

So here's my question: If he pronounces his name "Earl", why isn't that just the right way to pronounce his name?

Put another way, we view him saying "Earl" as just an accented way of saying "ERR-roll". If I go to the south and pronounce things like a Yankee, they might find my strange speech amusing, but outside extreme circumstances they'd recognize we were saying the same words. An analogy might be if someone with a speech impediment said his name was "Yonny", we might still say his name is "Johnny." That said, if, say, an Israeli told us his name was "Dah-veed", we wouldn't use the American pronunciation of "David." There we'd simply say that name was pronounced differently, and it would be expected that Americans would say "Dah-veed."

So when is it one, and when is it the other? Genuine open question for the crowd.

Though I don't really have anything novel to add, I suppose as a fan of boxing and a fan of commentator on anti-Semitism, I should remark on heavyweight champ Tyson Fury's addition of naked anti-Semitism to his already known array of misogyny and homophobia.

"Everyone just do what you can, listen to the Government, follow everybody like sheep, be brainwashed by all the Zionist, Jewish people who own all the banks, all the papers all the TV stations. Be brainwashed by them all. You’re all going to heaven - oh, sorry, there isn’t a heaven in a modern day world. So just crack on.

Fury then followed up by tweeting:

I see all the Zionist media outlets are on my back, because I speak the truth! u will all see the truth soon enuf, they killed my lord jesus

But don't worry! Because he concluded

I can confirm there is no hatred from me agents [sic -- probably "against"] the jewish people just the Zionist media.

A clarification which, according to the UK's National Union of Students, renders the whole thing entirely inbounds.

Anyway, as I said, I really don't have anything to add to this. We already knew Fury was an excellent boxer, and this doesn't reflect on his athletic prowess. We also knew that, as a person, Fury is complete scum, and this is only further verification of that. I'm just hoping that someone comes along to knock him off the heavyweight pedestal sooner rather than later.

I got to say, this is pretty neat:

Boxing promoter Bob Arum plans to make a statement against Donald Trump with an all-Hispanic undercard on his next big pay-per-view show. 

Arum said Tuesday that he'll feature all Hispanic fighters on the undercard of Manny Pacquiao's third meeting with Timothy Bradley on April 9 in Las Vegas. Arum called it "the Donald Trump undercard." 

Arum is no fan of the Republican presidential contender's calls for a wall on the U.S.-Mexico border and the deportation of an estimated 11 million people living in the country illegally. 

"I want them to know there are a lot of people that have their back and are not going to allow them to be deported," Arum said. "And if Trump got elected, I would be in the streets with them protesting."

At one level, it's not too surprising that a boxing promoter would take this stance, given the importance of the Latino community as the main base of boxing fandom in the United States. But still, it's a bold step and one that, as a boxing fan, I'm proud to see.

This article also informed me that before his boxing promotion career Arum, now 84 years old, was an attorney with the Department of Justice in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations. He's also a graduate of Harvard Law -- a distinction he shares with fellow boxing promoter Lou DiBella. Famed boxing adviser Al Haymon is also a Harvard alum. Turns out that there are a lot of really smart cookies in the boxing business!

Ah, to have a big fight on the horizon where the most serious conviction of one of the participants is "just" armed robbery where we can reasonably expect electrifying action. Tomorrow, junior middleweights Saul "Canelo" Alvarez (44-1, 31 KOs) and James Kirkland (32-1, 28 KOs) square off in a bout that could definitively establish the #1 154 pounder not named Floyd Mayweather.

Alvarez is a fighter I respect in spite of myself. For one, I tend not to like fighters who are declared stars before they earn stardom, and Alvarez -- with his boyish charm, matinee good looks, and distinctive red hair -- got the big star push very early in his career. I also tend not to like fighters who get decisions I disagree with, and while Canelo is 3-1 in his last four fights, on my scorecard he'd be 1-3.

So why do I respect him? Simple: He goes after the big fights. He does not duck challenges. And a corollary to my desire for top fighters to face other top fighters is that I don't discount them even if I think they lose, so long as they're competitive. And Alvarez has been competitive in all of his top challenges (save one). His last four fights -- against Austin Trout, Floyd Mayweather, Alfredo Angulo, and Erislandy Lara -- are illustrative.

The Trout fight came about because Canelo actually had his eye on a lucrative match-up with Miguel Cotto. That was derailed when Cotto was upset by the relatively unknown Trout, and rather than seeking out easier money Canelo insisted on fighting Cotto's vanquisher instead. I had Trout narrowly winning that fight, and didn't recall being super-impressed with Canelo's performance. But I admit it was razor thin, and Alvarez still deserves credit for going tooth-and-nail with with a very slick fighter who was widely considered the #1 (non-Mayweather) man in the division.

Alvarez then scored the twin blessing and curse that is a Floyd Mayweather fight. There's no two ways about it: Alvarez was thoroughly outclassed bell-to-bell. His caused was not aided by the unwise decision to try and box with Mayweather, but it hardly mattered. It also hardly matters to me that a 23-year old fighter was soundly defeated by the best fighter on the planet.

Alvarez returned against straight-ahead brawler Alfredo Angulo, and simply had his way with him. Angulo -- who himself had a brutal war with James Kirkland -- was never in the fight and got busted up en route to a 10th round stoppage. That set up yet another high-risk low-reward fight against Cuban slickster Erislandy Lara. Once again, I had Lara winning the fight; once again, it was generally agreed (by me as well) that the fight was exceptionally close. And so the fact is that Alvarez was close and competitive with top fighters that he insisted on facing. Whatever else you can say about him, he is not coasting on stardom. He genuinely wants to earn his place in boxing's elites.

Respect notwithstanding, I'll be rooting against Alvarez tomorrow night. One reason is pragmatic: If Alvarez wins, one boxing star leaves the ring, but if Kirkland wins, two do. Alvarez doesn't need a win to get (or preserve) mainstream popularity, but this is an opportunity for James Kirkland to really burst onto the scene like he seemed destined to do only a few years ago. The other reason is personal: James Kirkland is one of my favorite fighters. He is, and there is no better way to put it, in the hurt business.

To describe James Kirkland as a brawler isn't to do him justice. When I think of brawlers, I think of a crude hack-and-slash approach typified by wide looping shots. What makes Kirkland special is that he's actually relatively technically sound ... on offense. He puts his punches together nicely, and compactly, and has a devastating and varied attack to the head and body. What he shares in common with brawlers is that he is 100% offense. His defense isn't bad so much as it is irrelevant -- he has no objective in the ring but to deliver as much pain as possible in as short an amount of time. Often, this leads to him being knocked down -- indeed, it's rare to see a James Kirkland bout where he isn't at least rattled early in the fight. But he fights through it and eventually breaks nearly all of his opponents down.

The problem with James Kirkland is that he's inconsistent. His one loss is not to the greatest fighter on the planet, it's to entirely unheralded Nobuhiro Ishida, a light puncher who nonetheless dropped Kirkland three times in the very first round of their 2011 fight. Many blamed the loss on Kirkland lacking the presence of long-time trainer Ann Wolfe. After Ishida, he got back together with Wolfe and rattled off 5 straight victories. Two of those were phenomenal action bouts (against Alfredo Angulo and Glen Tapia). One of them has a serious question mark (Carlos Molina, who was beating Kirkland before getting controversially disqualified in what to my eyes was a clear misapplication of Texas rules). But all of them saw the Kirkland/Wolfe team clicking on all cylinders, which made it all the more eye-brow raising that Kirkland and Wolfe again parted ways. This story on ESPN is the first one I've seen where Kirkland actually gives an explanation for his decision to move on, and it's not superficially ludicrous (Wolfe specializes in a particular skill-set of strength and conditioning, but Kirkland felt like he needed to improve his game in other areas). But it remains to be seen whether Kirkland can win at a high level without Ann Wolfe in his camp.

And that is a large part of the drama of this fight. It is the rare fight where I can see any outcome. Canelo Alvarez is far better than Nobuhiro Ishida, and if Kirkland isn't in the right mindset its easy to imagine an early stoppage. I can also see Alvarez simply being better than Kirkland -- too strong, too tough, too versatile -- and either winning a decision or scoring the late KO. But when James Kirkland is on, he has the ability to tear through anyone. It is not inconceivable that he could lay a beating on Alvarez similar to what he did against Tapia or Angula. It's also perfectly plausible that Alvarez -- who has never been down in his career -- can survive the punishment better but simply be busted up over the course of the fight.

If I was a betting man, I still wouldn't put money on this fight because there is so much in the air. The safer money is with Canelo Alvarez, who is more consistent, has fought higher-quality opposition, and is the a-side fighter here. But when things are clicking for James Kirkland he has a spark inside him that I haven't seen in any fighter since Mike Tyson. It makes for brutal action and high drama. And this Saturday, I expect it to make for a very interesting night.

I was thinking about Michael Buffer's famous line, said before boxing matches around the world -- "Let's get ready to RUMBLE!" It is an iconic phrase -- possibly one of the most iconic in the world. Everybody knows it, even if you've never seen a boxing match.

Buffer is getting on in years, and eventually (hopefully not too soon) he'll die. And when that happens, the phrase will die with him -- not just in the sense that nobody will say it, but it's massive cultural penetration will rapidly become almost unintelligible. In 100 years, not only will nobody remember that phrase, but if they stumble on a historical artifact which references it, they'll have no idea what it means (culturally -- literally speaking, they could probably parse it out). Even if a historian did happen to be familiar with it, how would he explain it in terms of its incredible global reach? For something so ubiquitous, it really has no substance behind it whatsoever -- it's just a neat phrase, said in a neat way, that people around the world associate with the start of the fight.

This sounds a bit maudlin, and I don't mean it to be -- I actually think it is kind of neat that as a species we have managed to unify behind something as shallow and ridiculous as this. But it was a strange thought to have, and what is the purpose of having a blog if you can't share strange thoughts?

A lot of nothing from me over the past few days (my mom came out to visit), so it's only fitting that silence with a post on topic you all love: boxing! Specifically, last night's Pacquiao/Bradley card.

Cards on the table time: I was watching with friends so I didn't formally score the fight. I thought Pacquiao won. Everyone watching with me thought Pacquiao won. But while I was watching I did not think it was the one-sided drubbing that HBO was making it out to be. And I recall six rounds (from memory they were 1, 5, and 9-12) where I thought to myself "I can see an argument for Bradley in that round." Does that mean I thought all of those rounds should have necessarily been scored for Bradley? Nope. Does it mean that I thought they were the only conceivable rounds one could have scored for Bradley? Not necessarily. But as I said, I still came out with the assumption and belief that Manny Pacquiao won the fight.

So what happened? Let's break down some possibilities. But before we begin, let's break down why it is we all think Pacquiao won the fight.

The case for Pacquiao

It's weird to have to defend a result that everyone thinks is correct. But it makes for a good starting point for looking at the Bradley apologias, and it's productive for me to run through in my head why I thought Pacquiao deserved the nod. So here it goes: The only punches of meaning were landing by Pacquiao (the straight left hand). He landed more punches and harder punches, generally a winning combination, while Bradley may not have landing a single meaningful punch all fight. While someone like Timothy Bradley is never going to stop trying, by the middle of the fight he did start to look desperate, coming in wild and winging shots. Pacquiao for the most part executed his game plan and got Bradley to fight his fight.

Nor was it the case that Pacquiao dazzled in some rounds but quietly gave away others. With the possible exception of the 11th, there was not a single round that Pacquiao didn't have a solid case for winning. One could plausibly argue that a Pacquiao shutout was more in range of what transpired than a Bradley decision.

Corruption

This is always close to the lips of irate boxing fans. I'm always skeptical, possibly out of naivete -- I'm not close to the dark underbelly of boxing to know what "really" happens down there, so I blissfully tell myself corruption is a thing of the past (I also think it's easy enough for various cognitive biases to generally slant outcomes towards favored fighters without having to resort to corruption).

The corruption claims right now are centered on three points: (1) Unconfirmed accounts that Pacquiao was thinking of leaving Top Rank, and this was Bob Arum's way of punishing him, (2) The idea that Pacquiao was aging out and Top Rank wanted to launch a new, younger, American star in Timothy Bradley, and (3) The belief that this sets up a lucrative rematch between the two -- especially important given that Pacquiao was running out of credible opponents not named "Mayweather" or "Marquez", neither of whom Arum wants to work with.

In terms of Arum's response itself, I don't give much weight either to his fulminations about the sport being disgraced in the post-fight presser, nor his all-smiles presentation when talking to Bradley after the fight. The latter could be just politeness (Arum's not going to get in the face and scream at his own fighter right after the decision about the injustice of it), and the former is just basic political self-preservation given the popular reaction to the fight.

As I said, I tend not to think corruption is in play. But people are talking about it, and that's never a good thing.

Count to seven

On the other extreme from corruption, the simplest explanation for the result is that the judges found 7 rounds that they thought Bradley won. One interesting thing I've observed in reading the reactions to the fight is that while essentially everyone is saying "there are 3, maybe 4 rounds one could give to Bradley tops", there is widespread disagreement on what those rounds are. In fact, I've seen almost every round in the fight cited by someone or another as a "possible" Bradley round (in the course, again, of denying the possibility that he won more than 4). So if there's an argument to be made for all those rounds, well, string seven such arguments together and you have a Bradley win.

Is that "good" judging? Not necessarily -- I think the sour taste in our mouths comes from the sense that one has to reach to give Bradley these rounds, and one should not over and over reach to give the same fighter rounds. But it's there in a way that doesn't necessarily imply abject incompetence.

Upward mobility

Do you know what this fight reminded me of most when I was watching it? Bradley/Lamont Peterson. In that fight, Lamont Peterson fought hard, and well, and never looked like he was being blown out of the ring or anything. It's just that Tim Bradley was consistently better, and so was handily winning the fight. It seemed like the sort of fight that was obviously a Bradley win, possibly by shutout, but one in which shutout scores wouldn't really do justice to the effort put forward by the losing fighter. And I think that's what I lot of folks thought about this fight -- a convincing Pacquiao victory, but one in which he had to work harder than lopsided cards might suggest.

Okay, now, put yourself in the heads of the judges. For the first half of the fight, they're basically thinking the same thing we are: Pacquiao is winning, but not utterly dominating -- it's not like Bradley is out of the fight. So in their heads (even if subconsciously), when close rounds come up they're leaning towards scoring the bout in a way that matches their general instinct of Pacquiao in control but not walking of his man -- up 5-1 or 4-2 (I'm not saying this good judging practice -- I'm trying to make a psychological explanation for what's going on). And halfway through the fight, all three judges had Pacquiao winning (59-55 and 58-56 twice). I think if those scores had been announced after round six, none of us would have been bursting a blood vessel over it -- we'd say "okay, they found two rounds to give to Bradley."

Then we get to the second half of the fight, in which Bradley fought much better, and (more importantly) each round was better for Bradley than the one before. Judges start to see he's coming on strong, push a round his way. The next round is even better for Bradley than the one before, so you got to give him that one too. And again. And again, all the way down the back stretch of the fight.

The fact is that Bradley dominated the cards over the second half the fight -- he won 5 of 6 rounds on two cards and 4 of 6 on the third. Did he really win all those rounds? No. But you give him the first couple of rounds because the fight "feels competitive", then the next few because they were better than the ones you already gave him, then the last couple that he legitimately did win -- and suddenly you're holding a Bradley decision.

Again, I'm not saying "and thus, Tim Bradley legitimately won the fight". I'm trying to break down what I think might have actually gone on in the heads of three very experienced judges to make the result the way it was. This last story is the one that I think is most likely, and note what drives it -- not corruption, not incompetence, but not "judge each round individually" either. It's a set of cognitive biases that here happened to work strongly in Tim Bradley's advantage. That doesn't make it fair or right -- it makes it something to be attentive to.

* * *

The rest of the night

* Was the Randall Bailey/Mike Jones fight a microcosm of Randall Bailey or what? He does nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing ... BOOM right hand floors Jones. Then Jones gets up to control most of the 11th, before BOOM right uppercut obliterates him. It was a stunning one-punch knockout and further solidifies the legend of Randall Bailey as one of the all-time most concussive punchers in the sport. It is unreal the amount of power he packs in that one hand.

* Bizarre ending to the Arce/Rojas fight deprived us of what was shaping up to be a barn-burner. While I am quite willing to call the ending "freakish" as Lampley did, one of my friends watching argued against by pointing out that "a bolt of lightning is freakish. This fight ended with Arce being punched in the face, which is well within the realm of what I expected." Okay, touche. And rematch please?

* Guillermo Rigondeaux is so insanely good. It's not that Teon Kennedy is anything special, because he's not, but still five knockdowns in five rounds is pretty amazing. But more than that is how easy Rigondeaux makes it look -- he just gives off the impression he can do whatever he wants in there. The knockdowns themselves are less about raw, Randall Bailey-esque power and more just perfect timing and precision -- I don't know if I've ever seen a more accurate puncher. And on the rare occasions that Kennedy was able to force an exchange, that accuracy didn't go away -- Rigondeaux is blessed with an ability (shared by Pacquiao and Marquez, among others) to throw hard, accurate shots consistently in the middle of what look from the outside to be wild exchanges. He is the real deal, and I hope he gets a fight against the division's elite because I want to see him against the best.

* Max Kellerman was pretty dickish in his interviews tonight. It was annoying. But one thing I give Kellerman credit for when he's in the booth is that he does sometimes, quietly, try to derail Jim Lampley from running wild with "the narrative of the fight". That's one of Lampley's great weaknesses as a broadcaster, and while I've never heard Kellerman successfully convince Lampley to change his mind mid-fight, it's good for the viewers that we have a voice giving an alternative take.

Cool little story on Saudi TV about women's boxing in Afghanistan, including the threats they face from the Taliban and their commitment to keep going.



One young woman is looking for gold at the 2012 Olympics in London. Best of luck!

(See Boxers #6-10 and a description of this list here).

* * *

5. David Diaz (Lightweight, 36-4-1, 17 KOs)

Hey, remember when folks were wondering whether 135 lbs was just too high for Manny Pacquiao? David Diaz does. Part of the trifecta of Diaz's (the others were Juan and Julio) who possessed lightweight titles, David Diaz was seen as the weakest of the three when he was picked as the opponent for Pac-Man's experiment with higher weight classes. In retrospect, that's probably unfair (I think his career stacks up quite well against Julio Diaz). But anyway, I get ahead of myself.

Diaz is the sort of guy who's always performed above expectations. He earned a spot on the 1996 Olympic team by upsetting far more heralded Zab Judah, losing in the second round to eventual silver medalist Oktay Urkal. Diaz started his professional campaign 26-0 before being knocked out by Kendall Holt (see below). A year later, Diaz won the interim WBC lightweight title by defeating Jose Armando Santa Cruz, then, after being elevated to full titlist, defended against what was thought to be a long-faded Erik Morales in a win that looks much better in hindsight.

That paved the way for the payday against Pacquaio, who wowed the boxing world by destroying Diaz over the course of nine rounds. That set up Pacquiao's mega-fight with Oscar De La Hoya, and the rest, as they say, is history. Though I do like to point out that Diaz gave Pacquiao more of a challenge than either De La Hoya or Ricky Hatton. Diaz lost in his attempt to get his old title back from Humberto Soto, and then was knocked out in a hellacious war this past year versus prospect Hank Lundy.

4. Luis Collazo (Welterweight, 31-5, 16 KOs)

A skilled southpaw fighter from Brooklyn, Luis Collazo has been on the short end of several close decisions where he was the short money -- something that I imagine would be particularly gnawed at him had he never managed to hoist a belt. But fortunately, that wasn't the case, as he won the WBA welterweight title in 2005 against Jose Antonio Rivera, and defended it once against Miguel Gonzalez before accepting a challenge from undefeated Junior Welterweight star Ricky Hatton, who was moving up in weight and looking to establish himself as a superstar.

Collazo lost a unanimous decision in a fight many thought he won, but in which a Collazo victory stood to lose various boxing promoters massive sums of money (it would have, for example, derailed Hatton's ability to become a viable opponent for Pacquaio and Mayweather). Collazo lost more clearly to Shane Mosley before challenging HBO blessed-son Andre Berto for his WBC belt. In a life-or-death struggle that could have gone either way, Berto escaped with an exceedingly narrow unanimous decision win.

Since then, Collazo fell virtually off the map, winning a bounceback fight immediately after the Berto loss, then taking a nearly-two year layoff. Upon his return, he lost a disappointing decision to fringe contender Freddy Hernandez (whom Berto had earlier starched in one), which may have spelled the end of Collazo's run as an elite contender.

3. Kendall Holt (Jr. Welterweight, 27-5, 15 KOs)

Kendall Holt is nicknamed "Rated R", but he might as well be nicknamed "Enigma". I'm not sure I've ever seen a fighter in as many different varieties of fights as the Patterson, New Jersey-based fighter. Sometimes he unleashes devastating, one-punch KOTY candidates like against Julio Diaz. Sometimes he wanders aimlessly around the ring and is lethargically outboxed, like against Danny Garcia. Sometimes he's involved in all-action slugfests that last round after thrilling round, like against Ricardo Torres. Sometimes, he's involved in all-action slugfasts that don't last past the first round, like against Ricardo Torres in the rematch (or Thomas Davis).

Sometimes, all these qualities manage to come together within the space of a single fight, like against Timothy Bradley. There, he alternated between being utterly dominant (knocking Bradley down twice in the first and twelfth rounds) and utterly disinterested (most of the rest of the fight). To my eyes, it looked as if Holt was thoroughly in control for any part of the fight where his head was actually in the bout -- unfortunately, that consisted of a bare handful of rounds.

And that, in a nutshell, is the Kendall Holt story. The athleticism is there. The power is there. The head is most certainly not there. The upshot is a wildly inconsistent fighter who did manage to lift the WBO Jr. Welterweight title and hold it for one defense in 2008.

2. Cristobal Cruz (Featherweight, 39-12-3, 23 KOs)

Cristobal Cruz turned pro in 1992 at age 14, winning his debut by second round knockout. His record began to reflect that of a Mexican fighter with no serious promotional backing who turned pro at 14, and in 2007 when he faced a comebacking Zahir Raheem, he sported a fugly 34-10-1.

The Raheem fight was ugly, as Zahir Raheem fights often are, but in my opinion Cruz acquitted himself quite well -- I scored the fight a draw. The judges all gave the fight to Raheem by shutout or near-shutout, which is what happens when you're a 34-10-1 fighter against a former champion in an ugly fight. And that figured to be the Cristobal Cruz story -- a journeyman guy who got on ESPN2 once as a comeback opponent, did better than expected, and was firmly not rewarded for it by judges who weren't paying attention.

But by stroke of luck, the powers-that-be brought in Cruz as opponent for Thomas Mashaba as the latter geared up for a title shot. Cruz and Mashaba went to war in an incredible fight that saw Cruz break the Compubox record for most punches thrown in a fight. But it was a tight fight, and nobody knew how the scorecards would read. As it happened, Cruz managed to squeak out the upset majority decision victory, and the title shot that would have gone to Mashaba instead was handed to Cruz.

Cruz met Orlando Salido for the vacant IBF featherweight title, in a rematch of a fight Salido had won. In an exciting match, Cruz won by split decision and approved his record to 37-11-1 in the process. Cruz defended his title three times, including a spirited match against Jorge Solis which featured new and exciting innovations in fouling, before losing it to (who else) Salido in the 2010 rubber match.

A twenty-year pro now at age 34, Cruz is still going strong, scheduled to fight Juan Carlos Burgos in February 2012.

1. Nate Campbell (Lightweight, 34-9-1, 25 KOs)

Nate Campbell is number one on my list for several reasons. He's a genuinely nice guy, and he won his titles (three at once) in a pretty sizable upset. But most importantly, Campbell tops this list because of what he would have been remembered for if he hadn't managed to finally, at age 36, win the title that had eluded him for so long.

Campbell got a late start to boxing, originally inspired to try the sport after shadow-boxing to stay awake during late shifts at his job. His career started off with 23 straight wins before losing to Joel Casamayor in a closely contested bout. But it was his next big shot, an IBF title eliminator against Robbie Peden, that nearly defined his legacy. Well ahead on the scorecards going into the 5th round, Campbell stuck his chin out, daring Peden to hit him ... and proceeding to get himself knocked out. He was knocked out again in a rematch with Peden for the IBF Junior Lightweight title, then lost again to Francisco Lorenzo. Career momentum that was regained after an upset victory over undefeated Kid Diamond seemed arrested when he lost a split decision in a title eliminator to Isaac Hlatshwayo.

Going back into the trenches, Campbell kept at it, winning another eliminator against Matt Zegan and then (because this is boxing) yet another eliminator by thoroughly beating up Ricky Quiles. This made him the mandatory for IBF lightweight champ Julio Diaz, but his shot was delayed to make way for a (Julio) Diaz vs. (Juan) Diaz unification match. The latter, younger Diaz won, and Campbell was the decided underdog against the undefeated "Baby Bull" -- a charismatic Mexican-American fighter who now held the IBF, WBA, and WBO lights and that many were heralding as the next big thing. Campbell, for his part, never blinked -- I still remember Dan Raphael describing "The Galaxxy Warrior" as "supremely confident" in the months leading up to the fight.

And he backed it up. Campbell came out aggressive and put unprecedented pressure on Diaz. A cut caused by an accidental headbutt seemed to rattle the young champion, and Campbell kept on him. Most observers thought Campbell had won, but hearts stopped when the announcer declared it a split-decision. But in the end, the right guy had his hand raised, and Nate Campbell had the victory he had been searching for his entire career.

After the Diaz fight, Campbell's characteristic bad luck reasserted itself and his career spiraled downward with astounding celerity. A big payday against Joan Guzman fell through when the latter came in grossly overweight and refused to fight. Campbell declared bankruptcy, then lost his belts on the scale in a fight against Ali Funeka. The Funeka fight was Campbell's last great hurrah, seemingly battling father time as much as the South African, seemingly falling behind the fight only to surge back on the strength of 2nd and 11th round knockdowns. His majority decision victory was the last major triumph of Campbell's career -- he was being thoroughly dominated by Tim Bradley before that fight was stopped (it was later ruled a no contest), then lost to Victor Ortiz. A defeat to journeyman Walter Estrada led Campbell to announce his retirement, but he came back to lose to Danny Garcia and Khabib Allakhverdiev.

Still, I know of not a single person in the boxing community who does not consider themselves a Nate Campbell fan. Brash and occasionally foolhardy as he may be, he just seemed to exude a likeability and professionalism that won him admirers across the sport. And while most of us wish he'd end his career, we also hope he stays in the game as an announcer (for which he's shown natural talent). And all of us remember that great day in Mexico, March 8th, 2008, when he upset an unbeaten star to finally put those belts -- those belts which fans dismiss and commentators deride, those belts which cheapen the sport and drive away new viewers, those belts which Campbell had been pursuing fruitlessly for 8 years -- around his waist.

One of the most common complaints about the contemporary boxing landscape is the proliferation of "world titles". The WBC, WBA, WBO, and IBF all are considered "major" sanctioning organizations, each with their own champion (sometimes more -- the WBA has been known to have three in a single weight class). Add that to the legitimate Ring Magazine lineal title, and, well, that's a lot of folks who get to stroll around calling themselves "champ".

I don't necessarily disagree with this critique, but I tend to be a little more muted about it. In part, this is because the belts do sometimes (sometimes) accomplish useful things, forcing mandatories or elevating a talented but somewhat obscure fighter (often from Europe or Asia) to global prominence. But in part it's because the fighters care about them. It matters to them a great deal to be able to say they were "world champion", and I'm not from the sidelines willing to dismiss an institution that clearly means so much to the guys actually duking it out in the ring.

In this top ten (split into two posts), I give a list of ten people (in the recent past -- I only became a boxing fan in the last decade) whom I'm glad managed to win a title. Generally, this means folks who barely got over that hump -- for whom winning a title gives their career meaning it would have otherwise lacked, and legitimacy that I think their talent and dedication deserves. It's not that I'm sad Oscar de la Hoya won a title, it's just that it was never really touch-and-go for him -- he was a multi-division champ and international superstar. I'm talking about folks who scraped and clawed at the edges and, finally -- if only briefly -- managed to reach the top of the mountain. But when they retire, and talk to their grandkids, they'll be able say not "I once was a contender", but "I once was world champion".

10. Corrie Sanders (Heavyweight, 42-4, 31 KOs)

Essentially a fringe contender for his entire career, Sanders with a South African southpaw with fast hands and a vulnerable chin. He had amassed a solid 38-2 record prior to challenging Wladimir Klitschko for the heavyweight title, but was seen as a major underdog, with both of his two losses coming by stoppage and with Klitschko having the deserved reputation as a titanic puncher. Sanders also was 37 years old and had fought a mere 3 rounds in the past 2 years. Yet instead of the walkover many expected, Sanders dropped Klitshcko twice at the close of round 1 and twice at the start of round 2 to score the colossal upset. The iconic image here is a tie between Sanders screaming at Klitschko to get up after the first round knockdowns, and his trainer jumping into his arms after the fight was stopped.

Sanders immediately vacated his belt to challenge Vitali Klitschko for the WBC title, and was knocked out in 8. He never challenged for a title again, and last fought in 2008, a first round knockout loss to Osborne Machimana.

9. Carlos Quintana (Welterweight, 28-3, 21 KOs)

Despite a solid amateur background that included being a member of the Puerto Rican Olympic team, Carlos Quintana never really seemed to be in the conversation as a potential elite fighter. He first rose to prominence on an HBO card where he was intended to be the B-side showcasing far more hyped prospect Joel "The Love Child" Julio (who never did win a title). Despite suffering a flash knockdown in round one, Quintana thoroughly out-boxing Julio to win the fight and earn a shot at Miguel Cotto's 147 lbs belt. It was a competitive fight, but Cotto eventually overwhelmed Quintana with his power, knocking the younger Puerto Rican down with two painful body shots in the 5th (Quintana retired in his corner after the round).

That was the fight everyone remembered when Quintana signed to challenge unbeaten Paul "The Punisher" Williams. Williams had earned the moniker of the most-avoided fighter in boxing with his freakish, 6 foot tall frame, incessant activity, and surprisingly good inside presence, and had just won the biggest fight of his career in a slugfest against Antonio Margarito. Yet Quintana seemed to be in charge throughout the whole fight, brilliantly using his jab to control distance and keep Williams at bay. As Max Kellerman memorably put it, the story of the fight was "Carlos Quintana punches Paul Williams in the face". Yet Quintana's slick style and underdog status had people worried that a robbery was coming, and everyone was on edge when the scores were read. No need: Quintana won by unanimous decision to hand Williams his first defeat and lift the WBO welterweight crown.

The very next fight, of course, Williams knocked Quintana out in the very first round of their rematch to win the title back. Quintana then won two more fights against middling opposition before challenging Andre Berto for his title and getting knocked out in the 8th. He fought just one time in 2011, a win over journeyman Yoryi Estrella.

8. Cornelius Bundrage (Jr. Middleweight, 31-4, 18 KOs)

Cornelius "K9" Bundrage first was displayed to American boxing eyes against Sechew Powell in one of the wildest (and shortest) fights ever broadcast on ShoBox. It featured a double knockdown four seconds into the fight, followed by the Bundrage being knocked out seventeen seconds later (a confused Bundrage remarked in his corner: "I got knocked out that quick?").

Bundrage then became a contestant on Season 3 of The Contender, and was the final fighter picked to join a team. Boldly declaring that "the last shall be first", Bundrage was impressive in the tournament, beating Michael Clark, Walter Wright, and Norberto Bravo while losing to Steve Forbes and taking the bronze.

Still, Bundrage wasn't really considered to be a true contender for a title. A knockout loss to Joel Julio seemed to verify this, as Julio himself was really considered only a B+ fighter. His victory over Kassim Ouma (see below) was seen more as proof of how far Ouma had fallen, and a loss to Contender winner Grady Brewer was just icing on a bitter cake. But an upset knockout victory over previously unbeaten Zaurbek Baysangurov in Germany put Bundrage back on the IBF charts, and he was slated to face Yuri Foreman (see below) in a title eliminator. That fight ended in a no-contest due to a headbutt, but in my estimation Foreman seemed to be in charge early. Foreman elected to pursue a shot against WBA titlist Daniel Santos, which handed Bundrage a fight against reigning champ Cory Spinks in Spinks' hometown of St. Louis.

Even though Spinks was considered quite faded, Bundrage wasn't really considered an elite challenger. But he proved the skeptics wrong, knocking out Spinks in 5 (something previously done only by Zab Judah) and handing Bundrage the IBF 154 lbs title.

Bundrage is actually the only reigning titlist on this list, and has already made one successful defense of his belt. And who was his opponent? Why, none other than Sechew Powell, who had KO'd Bundrage in 21 seconds in that wild Showtime fight, so many years ago.

7. Kassim Ouma (Jr. Middleweight, 27-8-1, 17 KOs)

In a sport filled with tough stories, Ouma's may rank as among the worst. Born in Uganda, Ouma was pressed into service as a child soldier at age 6 in Uganda's civil war. He eventually left the army and joined the Ugandan national boxing team, defecting to the United States in the late 1990s (an act for which his father was killed by the government in retaliation). Despite never being wounded in his time a soldier, Ouma was shot twice in drive-by shootings upon arriving in Florida.

Ouma won his belt in 2004 against tough Verno Phillips, defending once against Kofi Jantuah before losing his crown to Roman Karmazin. Since then, Ouma has specialized in the "brave, losing effort", a skid that began in a near-suicidal performance against then-middleweight champion Jermain Taylor (albeit one that established him as among my personal favorite fighters). This wasn't actually considered to be a major hiccup, as Ouma was considered too small to be a true middleweight and was excused for his ill-advised jump up a weight class.

Unfortunately, upon dropping back to 154, he then lost what was supposed to be a bounceback fight against Saul Roman and another to Cornelius Bundrage. Then, after a win over journeyman Martinus Clay, dropped a split decision to Gabriel Rosado and a UD to prospect Vanes Martirosyan -- the last of which, in Ouma's defense, very well could have been a brave, winning effort (he dropped Martirosyan in the 9th and one could have very easily scored the fight for Ouma). This past year, he challenged emerging star Gennady Golovkin for his WBA middleweight belt, but lost in (what else) a brave effort.

6. Yuri Foreman (Jr. Middleweight, 28-2, 8 KOs)

Ah, the "Kosher Krusher". Yori Foreman was part of a trio of Jewish boxing "contenders" that most real boxing fans viewed more as marketing ploys. Roman Greenberg was knocked out by Cedric Boswell, and Dmitry Salita was annihilated in one round by Amir Khan. And Foreman -- a slick boxer who wishes he had Paulie Malignaggi's pop -- wasn't really seen as any better. He had managed to eke out split-decision victories over Anthony Thompson and Andrey Tsurkan -- both decent gatekeeper types, but neither the sort that a true title contender should be struggling with. And though he looked decent against Cornelius Bundrage before that fight was prematurely stopped on a headbutt, few -- myself included -- gave him much of a shot when he stepped up to challenge reigning WBA titlist Daniel Santos.

Boy were we in for a surprise. Not only did Foreman dominate the fight, he actually put Santos on the canvas twice (in the 2nd and 12th rounds) to win the bout handily and earn the title of world champion.

In his next fight, Foreman was matched against Miguel Cotto as the latter attempted to bounce back from his loss to Manny Pacquiao. The fight was the headliner in the first boxing match at the new Yankee stadium, and early on Foreman had decent success with his stick-and-move strategy. Unfortunately, Foreman's knee gave out in the 7th -- bad for any fighter, but disastrous for a guy like Foreman who depends on lateral movement and who has no power to speak of.

Yet Foreman bravely carried on, trying to stand in the pocket and trade with Cotto despite (a) Cotto being one of the best body punchers in the sport and (b) Foreman not having any power even when he can put weight on both legs. The result was predictable: Yankees fans were treated to an extraordinary display of boxing courage, and Foreman was treated to having the crap kicked out of him before the fight was finally stopped in the 9th. Foreman fought just won more time, losing by corner retirement in the 6th round to Pawel Wolak.

Last night, Lamont Peterson won a close split-decision victory over titlist Amir Khan in Peterson's hometown of Washington, DC, lifting two belts in a massive upset and a beautiful fight. There was some controversy over the refereeing, and that has some validity, as I'll discuss below. But the first thing that has to be said is that it was a great fight, and a career-defining performance by Peterson, who was a massive underdog going in. I told my girlfriend before the match started that "one of my favorite fighters is on tonight, and he's going to lose." Boy, did he prove me wrong.

Unfortunately, there are questions about the referee. What I think is clear is that he didn't seem ready for a fight of this magnitude. He seemed jumpy, was often out of position, and was extremely unclear about when he was breaking the fighters. But the controversy stems from deducting two points from Khan for pushing off -- which is a foul, but one that is rarely penalized. Rarely isn't never -- Mayweather was penalized against Castillo for much the same infraction -- but it isn't common. I'm not wild about the deductions, but that comes with a ton of caveats. "Not wild" isn't the same as outraged. Khan committed a foul, he was warned about it, he kept doing it, and eventually he got penalized. Then he did it some more, and got penalized again. The point Max Kellerman made about the lack of a "hard warning" I see, but only for the first deduction (I think deduction #1 counts as the quintessential "hard warning" before deduction #2). There's no disputing that Khan was pushing off, and there was no disputing he was warned about it. This isn't a case where there was a phantom low-blow or anything like that.

The other thing this wasn't, despite Khan's incessant attempts to claim otherwise, was a fight where Peterson's infractions were ignored while Khan's were jumped on. Did Peterson come in with his head low? Yeah, sometimes, but never in a way that led to any headbutts. And plenty of times Khan was holding his head down entirely of his own volition. Those, to me, washout. And while Khan claimed he "had to" push off because Peterson's head was low is simply bogus -- Khan was pushing Peterson off because Peterson was effectively ripping him up in close. A low head doesn't require pushing.

Meanwhile, Khan was the beneficiary of a borderline knockdown call in the first round. The first time Peterson tasted canvas in the first was ruled a slip because he was caught in the referee's legs. Bad positioning by Joe Cooper, but the right call. The second time, which was scored a knockdown, Peterson's legs were tangled with Khan's. Was it a blown call? I don't think so, not the least because tangled feet are very hard to spot, but it may have been the wrong one (Max Kellerman tried to sneak in that observation in the midst of several righteous tirades by Jim Lampley, mostly without success). Take away the two point deductions, and Khan wins by UD. Take away the two deductions and the knockdown, and it's a majority draw.

And speaking of that, let's talk about the scores. The two judges who gave it to Peterson scored in 113-112, which translates to each fighter getting six rounds apiece. That sounds about right to me (I had it 114-112 Peterson, or 6-5-1). The one judge who gave the fight to Khan had it 115-110. All the points shenanigans make that deceptive, so let me break that out for you -- that's a 9-3 Khan advantage. Does anyone think Amir Khan won nine rounds in that fight? 7-5 in either direction I can absolutely see, but 9-3? Come on. (Some folks made hay about the time it took to add up the cards. I don't think that signifies anything -- I can tell you what 7 rounds to 5 adds up to in my sleep, when there are no knockdowns or point deductions. When those come into play, then I actually have to do the addition. And when it's as close as this fight was, I do the addition slowly).

Hopefully, that dispenses with the refereeing section of the discussion, because I would really we rather focus on the fight itself. The story was actually pretty simple: Khan won on his front foot, Peterson won when he could force Khan on his back foot. And how did Peterson create the latter situation? Body work. Virtually everything good Peterson did started with the same thing -- a ripping one-two combination to the body which I found myself yelling at the TV for Peterson to throw more. Those two body shots -- which always seemed to land with wicked force -- force Khan up, allowing Peterson to get in his grill and hammer him on the inside until Khan was able to scamper (or push) off. The rounds where Peterson was able to do that for any significant portion of time were the rounds Peterson won, and the rounds he won clean.

It's easy to say Peterson could have put this fight beyond doubt by being more willing to press the action in that vein in some of the slower rounds. It is true what Max was saying, that Peterson has a tendency to keep his hands in his pocket until he thinks everything is lined up perfectly, and I think it's equally true that the special moments in last night's fight occurred because Peterson was able to overcome that instinct and throw with more abandon. But I also think it doesn't give Khan enough credit. He was genuinely elusive moving around the ring, and those four punch combinations he'd stop and throw, though mostly caught on the gloves, did have the effect of stopping Peterson from coming in. It's also worth noting that in the last round, where Peterson really did get a little reckless trying to rush Khan, Khan was mostly able to pick him off and move away. While aggression is the order of the day against Khan, he's a good enough fighter to force you to be intelligent about it.

The final thing I want to say is that I absolutely understand why Khan is upset. It was a close fight that went against him, in his opponent's hometown. My conspiracy-o-tron is not buzzing too loudly, because Khan had the money behind him, which counterbalances the hometown edge, but in the heat of the moment that's going to rankle. I'm sympathetic. But I don't think he was robbed, and I think acting as if that was the story of the fight doesn't give due credit to an outstanding performance by Lamont Peterson, who turned in the fight of his life.

Congrats, champ.

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I couldn't figure out where to add this in, but another congrats is due to Maryland heavyweight Seth "Mayhem" Mitchell, who made a huge impression with a second round TKO of Timor Ibragimov. Mitchell, a converted football player, looks like he may have the goods. He had been getting along on natural athleticism, and there was a question about how he would handle someone who really did know his way around the ring. Ibragimov, an amateur standout and a solid pro, was a legitimate test. And boy did Mitchell ever pass -- hammering Ibragimov (who'd never previously been stopped) with right hands until the ref stepped in at the close of round two.

Mitchell looked outstanding to me, throwing in combinations beyond the classic heavyweight 1-2, and showing a good finishing instinct when he had Ibragimov hurt. He reminds me a bit of Chris Arreola, except unlike Arreola Mitchell is in impeccable condition. I'm excited to see more. We had a great card tonight featuring "Havoc" (Peterson) and "Mayhem" (Mitchell), and I think few DC fight fans would say no to more cards featuring them in the future.

This one might be a bit more haphazard than most, as it incorporates some election night celebration. As for the title, my laptop had its hard drive replaced, and in the middle of doing so my wireless card somehow snapped. So that has to get fixed too.

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My comment to this post set of a twitter war between myself and the Republican Jewish Committee, centered around my observation that if disliking Bibi means hating Israel, then disliking Obama means hating America. Why do Republicans hate America so much, anyway?

Occupy movement inspires unions to get bolder.

Andre Berto is dropping his belt to pursue a rematch against Victor Ortiz, which may pave the way for a match between Randall Bailey (42-7, 36 KOs) and Carson Jones (32-8-2, 22 KOs) to claim the vacant belt. I like both guys, but I'm a particularly fervent Jones fan, so I approve. Bailey is average at best in all dimensions of the sport save one: concussive, brutal, devastating, one-punch power. So it should be good.

Though Blacks are far more likely to be imprisoned for it, it's White kids who actually are more likely to use drugs.

Mostly a good election night for Team Blue: Maine voters reinstated same-day voter registration, Ohio voters tossed Gov. John Kasich's (R) anti-union law, Mississippi(!) voters decisively rejected a "personhood amendment" that would declare life begins at conception, and won massive victories in most Kentucky statewide races as well as an Iowa State Senate election that preserves their control of the chamber. Also, one of the chief xenophobes in the Arizona State Senate, Senate President Russell Pearce, was successfully recalled by another (more moderate) Republican.

On the negative side, the Virginia state Senate will likely flip by an agonizingly small margin (86 votes in the pivotal race) and Mississippi approved a voter ID law (and elected a new GOP governor -- no shock there).

UPDATE: Another bit of good news: Dems have retaken the Wake County (NC) school board. That's a big deal: Wake County had been one of integration's few true success stories, and the GOP board that swept to power last cycle was looking to undo that.